


A Sweet Disposition

by crazynoona



Category: Tasertricks - Fandom, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of feels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF ladies, Darcy is AWESOME, Expect this to be explicit by the next chapter, F/M, It's gonna be one dark-gritty-smutty ride, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Marvel Cameos, OTP Feels, This is just a teaser, buckle up girls, tasertricks - Freeform, teaser
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazynoona/pseuds/crazynoona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>وطن المرء ليس مكان ولادته و لكنه المكان الذي تنتهي فيه كل محاولاته للهروب</p><p>  “Home is not where you were born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease. “</p><p>- Naguib Mahfouz</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's me. Again. I know. I'm still neck-deep in this hell hole that is Tasertricks (pls send help). Bear with me. Now, I'm not trying to be irresponsible with my other ongoing fic(s) and I usually refrain myself from publishing a story that I haven't finish at least until the 3rd chapter, but I saved this in my AO3 draft and soon the system will delete it if I forget to post. I would hate that to happen but it just might (it did once) considering I'm a total klutz. Seeing that this is the latest, edited version of the story I thought I better post it sooner rather than later or never. Consider this a teaser and do let me know if you want more. Or not. This gonna be short and I will go easy on the plot. Obviously, the two will eventually get down and dirty **(E)** , just the way I like 'em.
> 
> Enjoy darlings!
> 
> xxoo
> 
> P.S. :  
> 1\. I owe this one to Sam (Samantha_Shakespeare) :* whom had bravely proof-read the whole thing (can you imagine the mess I made? Neither can I) and kindly told me that this story wasn't trash. Incase you guys still spot some errors, those are definitely, **entirely** mine, bec I added more stuff after she was finished with her edit. 
> 
> 2\. Just a heads up, everything _might_ hurt ~~badly~~ before they get better.

 

* * *

   

“Erik! Darcy! You guys,  **this**  is awesome!” Jane Foster dashes inside the small office, cradling two bottles of their daily dairy delivery close to her chest while the other hand is eagerly waving what seems to be a big brown envelope, already opened by the seams.

“Don't tell me, is it the gamma rays this time? Or the intergalactic mold?” not bothering to look over her shoulder Darcy replies from behind of the kitchen island, while in the background Erik groans blandly saying that he's not going to humour anyone before coffee. Between the eviction note and those red bills that are stacking on the lab desk, he couldn’t imagine his day could get anywhere near 'awesome'.

"FYI, it was from outside, not the lab!" The petit scientist throws Darcy a nasty eye for a millisecond but it seems like the news she brings manages to out-weigh her irk. Her smile broadens in no time as she approaches the gloomy bunch. " _This_  is better than coffee Erik! Here, read this yourself!” She takes the mug and in place, forces the paper into Erik’s hands.

Getting suspicious and anxious all at once, Darcy’s ears perk at the words. Not because the preposterousity of the statement, because really, Erik is right - there is nothing better than caffeine in such a cold and early morning. Still, she says nothing, though she keeps her hands busy at the espresso machine, silently wishing that her gut feeling is wrong. It must be. Right? He  _can't_  possibly clear her dispute that fast - or can he? The loan-sharks maybe, those assholes obviously work for him, but - the bank?

This must be some kind of trickery. They just met, literally, a few nights ago!

Adding suspense to the status quo, the hissing and whistling from the machine seems to get louder and louder as her heart beats faster. Tampering her nerves, she sits back on the high-stool and sinks her weary face behind the book she's pretending to read.

Not noticing her friend’s inner monologue and with the anticipation of a child, Jane stands behind Erik's shoulders, the cheer never leaving her gorgeous face.

Erik adjusts his glasses, a sharp intake of his breath follows, as he scratches his stubbled chin. A few minutes later his nose rises from the paper, his eyes are bulging bright from the sockets. “Wha-? Is this real?”

“Yes, they’re giving us more time! We can continue on our research Erik, Mr. Laufeyson said we can keep the lab and he also told me,  _well_  - his assistant actually but, that's kinda the same thing, anyway; he said that they will even fund us further for it!” Jane shrieks, almost squealing on her tiptoes.

_Mr. Laufeyson._

The book in Darcy's hand thuds as it hits the counter's marbled surface. The name sucks the air out of her lungs faster than a TKO. She didn't expect to hear it again this soon, or at all. Luckily, no one seems to pick up on her reaction (or the lack of it) as the two lab buddies are already jumping into each other’s arms, their loud whoopee resounds inside the room.  

_Loki Laufeyson._

The tall, dark and charismatic man wasn't what most people would categorize as beautiful. He was certainly far too dangerous, rough around the edges to be called simply that, but somehow to her, he is.

To say that his presence left a notable impression would be an understatement. Like an unsolved puzzle, that enigmatic man had rattled her peace ever since the first time she saw him last month because despite the evident attraction. Truth be told, he wasn't actually what she's looking for when she said her life needed more adventure. But then again, they were strangers at the time (at least on her part). 

It wasn't at all because of the way he looks, or the way he talks or the way he gracefully carries himself (though those didn't hurt). No. There was  _something_  in the way he gazes at her. Something she could not grasp and that something told her that he, somehow,  _knew_  her. That those mesmerizing eyes of his had read more than what she cared to share.

 _How? Why?_ Heaven only knows.

Everything about him and that short time they spent together are still sharp in her mind. His razor-edge smile wouldn't stop haunting her dreams, replaying his enticing words and what followed afterwards, time and again. 

 

_“Hush hush princess or they’ll hear you.”_

_"Darling, you're so beautiful, so beautiful -"_  He whispered to her ear before he went to his knees and - 

 

 _Fuckity fuck, stop it! Stop it Lewis!_ She nervously twists and twirls the gilded locket on her necklace, trying to shove off the memory of his kisses. His … kisses – NO.  _Not today satan!_ There is no way in hell she's going to let him mess with her reality, no matter how good the sex was (she wished it wasn't, but dear heavens. IT. WAS. He was  **the**  best lay she had in years, or ever).

Not a minute and a distressing second later, Jane finally notices her absence from the group-hug. The pretty scientist momentarily steps away from Erik and tells her to strand her darn book. With a tilt of her head she motions for Darcy to join them. A question rises in her hazel eyes, but she doesn't voice it. Yet.

To rouse Jane's curiosity is  **never**  a good idea, thus Darcy tries to shut her worries down by forcing a wide smile and bounces to her feet though her thoughts are still wandering further and further away.

_This is really happening._

Darcy tugs on her bottom lip, unsure of what to feel apart from need to chug down something, anything, stronger than just coffee is imminently arising at the revelation.

 _You mean, to commemorate this happy upturn of events?_ Because he really keeps his promise and that means they're not going to lose all that her dad had left behind. 

 _For a price,_ her inner-voice reminds her and it positively drains the colour off her face.

Oh for fuck's sake, who is she kidding?

These days, everything comes with a price. Especially when his name is involved. But at least, half the burden on Darcy's shoulders seem to wither at the first smile painted on her friends’ faces in months. Those two are her rocks in times of need. When they heard of what had happened, they immediately left their apartments and chose to stay with Darcy until things get better.

 

 _"Nah, don't sweat it Darce, besides you got a better view and better Wi-fi for my teleconference here."_  Jane said as she strolled inside, carrying a huge telescope (bigger than her body) and her luggage.

 _"Not a word young lady. No one should be on their own."_  Erik told her a day later, a carry-on bag in his hand (apparently, most of his stuff was already there).

 

For that, Darcy finds that the deal she had agreed upon a few nights ago was worth it. Now they can all sleep peacefully on their own comfy bed, instead of curling inside the sleeping bags at the lab's floor (her father's room is left untouched and so Darcy gives her bed to Erik, she doesn't want his arthritis to get any worse).

Ignoring waves of unsettling thoughts storming inside, Darcy relishes in the warmth between her arms and deep within her heart, because this moment might just be the last she could have before she had to leave these geeks she loves so much.

_Woman up Lewis! You can’t possibly back down now!_

Not that the option would be plausible. At least the letter Jane brought had confirmed that, despite his reputation, Loki wasn't fibbing when he said he'd help their situation out. 

 _“I’ll take care of everything.”_ He said that night, as he fixed his daunting stare at her. Standing over six foot, he loomed over her and those blue-green eyes of his, glinting as dashing and brilliant as sin. Even the slightest recollection of it weakened her at the knees.

Of course he's not going to lie. Isn’t that the way it works when one made a deal with the devil? He'll make you drunk with the sweet and pungent taste of his wine, before he drowns you in them.

 

***

 

That afternoon the church is empty and so are the rows of wooden benches lining inside it. Warm hues of gleaming colors wash through the son of God, his disciples and the saints, immortalized in stained glasses.

When he was abroad, he missed being here. To be alone with his thoughts, evading the commotion of the world outside. It was a perfect hideout, no one ever found him here. Maybe that was why this serene and strange place feels more like a home rather than his mansion. 

The crisp pine scent, the arching windows, the high ceiling, everything is still in the same order as he remembers, though much cleaner, brighter in the light of day.

Honestly, Loki doesn’t plan to be here but here he is, once again, blankly looking ahead at the altar. He isn’t a religious man like the woman he once called a mother and though sitting soundly, hands clasped as one, he's definitely not praying (it's more like a nervous gesture he cannot drop). Dismantling a SIG is, probably, a far sensible, simpler task to do than sending your prayers to the great unseen. He’s not even a Catholic to begin with. But each time he wanted to escape, to runaway from the life he's having he always ended up here.

Back then, with having no one or nowhere to go to, he found being inside the sanctuary to be cathartic and somewhat, peaceful. Especially when the demons residing in his heart and head were at war with each other, just like this moment.

 

 _"Your stubborness exhausts me."_ The uninvited guest raked her rouge-noir nails on the surface of his oak desk.

 _"Then stop trying."_ Loki replied with an infuriating calmness.

She lunged forward, slamming shut the laptop he was using as she did so with a snarl on her red lips,  _"Remember who puts you on this chair today. You are mine Loki. Mine."_

_"I am no one's pet Selene." His eyes hardened, " We had one agreement but I am never a part of that bargain." Loki paid her with nothing but a disinterested glance._

_"Sweetheart, I'm your only way out of all this and you know it. You're a smart man, I don't think I have to spell it out for you."_

_"How very flattering."_

Leisurely, as if she wasn't at all affected by the sardonic response, she straightened her posture, hands now crossed over her cashmere white jacket suit. It only took one glance to see that she wore absolutely nothing underneath it. _"_ _I'll be leaving for Stuttgart tomorrow. Three months. You have three months to think about it and by the time I get back, I expect you to come to your senses by giving me the right answer."_

That was a marriage proposal according to Selene Kincaid, nothing but a convenient business arrangement. If Loki was in his right mind, he would've say yes. Because that woman is the sole heir of the Kincaids, the infamous warlord and also - Laufey's rival. Though her father may not own a son, Selene had proved herself worth ten times over until eventually, the family business runs under her leash.

Out of the blue, she came to him three years back. She proposed an offer that, at that time, seemed too good for him to refuse. An ally she said, a  _friend_. That with joined forces, they could conquer everything he never dared to dream. He took her bidden hand and not long after, her men provided him all the right tools to put an end to Laufey's long reign. But Loki was never a fool. He recognized a predator when he sees one. That was why the barb-wired barricade he built around his person were standing still, he wasn't going to let her madness in. The pale beautiful skin she wears is just a perfect cloak, a facade to hide the cold-blooded tyrant within. It came to no surprise to him that, in the end, she was the one that literally choked the final breath out of Laufey's lungs. She was right. Ever since that night, Loki was hers and her words were just another order, a soldier like him, could not refuse.

What a sick joke his life has been for it never felt like his own. Once he had signed a blood pact with the organization and now he had made a far worse deal with the devil herself. It was a never-ending cycle. A different master, the same kind of hell. 

Submitting to Selene's wish would be so easy, not to mention profitable for both parties. Often he thought of abandoning his deteriorating conscience to the wind. To just let go and join the wild ride, giving up his logic and his pride.

Until a certain iridescent night, where a pure chance encounter bestowed Darcy Lewis to his life. In her presence, for once, words were useless. Nothing could properly describe how perfect the curves of her lips, her hips, when she writhed against his when they kissed. Or how pale the dazzling stars were in the comparison to the sparkles in her eyes.

If only he knew better. That it was also the moment where his complication about to start.

 

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” A deep yet calm voice reverberates, cutting Loki from his afflicting thoughts.

Not many people could creep behind him unnoticed. Rapidly, Loki turns his neck to his left and finds a familiar man is towering over him. It’s him. The not so-commonly looking priest. A paid gun to end his life was Loki’s first guess when he saw him long time ago.

With a rosary dangles over his black and white attire and his light amber, almost gold-like eyes he smiles knowingly at him.  _Did he think he was someone else?_  Because they've never spoken to each other before now, they're practically strangers.

“No, you, I  _know_  you.” The priest says, as if hearing the question Loki doesn’t voiced.

“You - remember?” Loki replies almost bewilderedly. He certainly wasn’t expecting for anyone to recognize him after all these years.

 _The scar, he probably remembers you because of it._ Loki holds the urge to brush the left side of his face, where the vile silvering line that runs like road-map starting from his left temple down to his jaw _._ Funny how it no longer bothers him as much as it did before. In fact it is a perfect remembrance of whom he is. Monstrous.

The statuesque priest doesn’t seem to be bothered too. He inches closer and slides to the bench beside him, “You mind?” He asks, pointing to the spot.

“Not at all.” Loki immediately replies and scoots further right.

After he’s settled in his seat, the priest speaks again, “A healthy looking young white male sitting alone at church every Friday before midnight? Impossible not to.”

“Very astute of you, Father.” Loki throws his vision back to the altar and notices the other man is doing the same.

“One of my gifts,” He smirks, “Besides, you paid good money for candles you did not light, so there’s that.” He points again, towards the statue of the Virgin. An old lady that just came in is now kneeling before it with a myriad of candles illuminated in front of her.

Loki quietly smiles at the remark.

“So, what can I offer you today child? A blessing? A confession maybe?” He could sense something akin to pain from the conflicting expression etched on Loki's face, as if the man carries the burden of the earth on his tired back.

 _A blessing? A confession?_ Like those could help him out of this mess. Loki wants to laugh out loud at the asinine offer, but instead he just smiles again. “No. I don’t think those could help Father.”

“The cubicle is empty and I’m not in the mood of hearing one more confession about infidelity.” He tries again, scratching his military-cut ebony hair.

“Tough life.” Loki chuckles, crossing his legs.

The priest shrugs his shoulders whilst burrowing his imposing posture further to the back of the oak chair, “Sure you’re not coming in?” He jerks his chin towards the confession booth.

“Pretty sure, besides, mine is probably duller than what you might have in mind.”

“Is it about a girl? A boy?”

“Absolutely, mostly –  _not_  about a girl.” And definitely about a decision he made that, without a doubt, will lead to one of the greatest sins he’s about to commit after he walks out the door.

 _About to?_ His mind inquires cynically. 

 _Well_ , their last meeting two night ago was more like the opening act, and he actually didn't do half the things his body was screaming for him to do.

Nevertheless, Darcy's going to hate him reverently after this. But whatever the consequences are, his mind is already set to carry his plan to the finish line.  _This_  is the least he could do to pay her father the same kindness he once shown him when nobody did.

 _Then there's really no point in delaying the inevitable, is there?_ He sighs. At once Loki straightens his back and drags his heavy feet to stand.

“Leaving so soon? Does my presence disturb you?” Looking up to the ascending man, the priest asks imperceptibly.

Stepping one leg to the aisle, Loki lightly shakes his head as he buttons his suit jacket. “The house of God is no place for a man like me.”

The priest slowly nods at the weight of sincerity in his answer, “Stick around longer, you’d be surprised.”

“Maybe next time Father.” Loki answers, just to be polite but he keeps his steady pace 'til he reaches the exit.

“Next time.” The man replies, alas his short sentence is swallowed by the echo of the closing door.

Outside, the sun is still shining brightly and the wind, oddly, carries the distinct salty scent of the sea, effervescent, cool and airy. The polar opposite of what he feels inside. Squaring his shoulders, Loki puts on his Tom Ford aviators, blocking the shimmering light and walks on to where a black limo is already waiting by the sidewalk. A dirty-blond man is leaning by its smooth rear, a lit cigarette perching on his lips as his thumbs flippantly tap on the screen of the smart phone in his hands. His focus is entirely absorbed into the game he's playing. 

“Narfi, start the car.” Loki commands as his long legs saunter on. 

The younger man swiftly puts the device into his biker jacket's pocket and flicks the cigarette off his lips and onto the dirt, smothering the remaining under his converse. "On it boss."

"What are you? A cat?" Raising his brow in disapproval, Loki pauses by the half-opened door, "Pick that up. Now."

 _Oh shit!_ Not meeting his employer's eyes, Narfi dashes through, obeying the order before settling behind the wheel, "Where are we heading now boss?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, stop -" Loki blows out a tired breath before shaking his head exasperatedly.  _Nevermind_. "I need to make a detour to Brooklyn. Drop me off and call it a day." Loki dictates from the passenger seat of the leathered cabin.

Brooklyn.

Trying to kill the void that he presumes would disturb Loki's not so peaceful state of mind, Narfi blows up the stereo as the engine revs and the tires begin to rage against the asphalt.

 _Terrible lie. Terrible lie. Terrible lie. Terrible lie_ , on and on the morbid, agony-driven lyrics chant.

The seething vocals makes Loki's stomach churn and so is the thought of having to visit the district again. He's not actually as cold as his farce, nor as ready for this battle. Especially reminiscing her anger in their last meeting. The temperate woman is not going to make things easy for him. But under the circumstances, maybe that's for the best. Morosely, he looks out the window with his chin resting over his knuckles. In his mind, Darcy's adamantine eyes and spiteful words are overlapping in a chorus.

 

_"You monster!"_

_"I hate you."_

 

Why does he find the fact so hard to swallow? He hardly knows her, so why does her opinion weigh more than it should? 

Loki holds no answer to the questions.

They shouldn’t matter anyway. She could hate him to her heart’s content. Because this is not about him, nor his desires. It’s about doing what's necessary, for her sake, to grant her safety. To square a debt, his blasted soul be damned. Besides, this is nothing, nothing compared to the crimson on his ledger. He can do this. He must. For old time's sake. For Hank.

 

 ***

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * SIG = Assault Rifles / Carbines  
> * The song is "Terrible Lie" by NIN
> 
> There's an actual fairytale(s) I butchered for this one. You might be able to guess which one as the story runs.  
> Anyway, as I said before, I'm aware that I have another wips but I'm a moody not-really-a-writer _(whispers : sorry),_ I write when I feel like it. When my mood swings to a happier place I'm gonna continue on the [other one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4821257/chapters/11039774) and when I'm feelin' sappy (as when I wrote [The Devils](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3656781/chapters/8080377)) I'm gonna go with this. What can I say, I'm a dramatic mess, so do not shy away, send me lotsa love because your encouragement is like a cup of hot cocoa on a rainy day ;*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delayed gratification.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. : Not Beta'd, haven't got the time to re-read this for the 100th times, my family and bff are visiting at the same time. So I'm super nervous, but I will get back to it later, I sure hope I didn't post the wrong draft ;p

* * *

 

  
**_Two days ago_ **

 

Loki's words hung in the air as the door to his office swung open and revealed an unforeseen incoming of Darcy Lewis. This must be another cruel dream, he narrowed his eyes. An awestruck look dawned on his face though he dropped it almost immediately as he studied his guest. The stain from that afternoon rain was apparent. Her wet brown boots marked the floor, the side of her dark blue jeans was damp and so did the front of that over-worn satchel bag that she held on to, both probably a souvenir left by one of the passing vehicles outside. 

“Out.” Loki immediately stood up.

“Right away sir. I'm terribly sorry, we tried to stop her but –“ His pale-faced secretary tried to reason in a tremulous tone. She nervously signalled two securities men behind her to come forward and fetch the unwanted guest.

“Not her." Loki snapped before they dare to lay a finger on her, "All of you. Leave us.” He dismissed the meeting and its attendances with a jerk of his head.

The sound of cluttered stationeries being cleared off the table and wheeling chairs filled the room, but amidst the commotion, not once Loki tore his gaze away from Darcy Lewis' face, as if he was afraid that she would disappear at any given moment. This time though, she didn't. She stood rigidly before the wide opened double doors that separated his office from the adjacent conference room. She wasn't a mirage. She was really here. A living, breathing, _seething_ Darcy Lewis. The rise and fall of her chest was palpable, her fists curled tight, but despite the anger she managed to keep a straight face. 

It was just a matter of time. Loki knew she’d come though certainly, not like this. Inside his mind, there were millions scenarios on how their second meeting should play out, the right words he ought to say. All useless of course. He should've been braver, it wasn't like she's unreachable when New Mexico is just three hours flight away. Alas, he was not a daydreamer whose capable of making up a future he could not have. Besides, surely she would not react the same way she did before now that she knew who he was, what he does for a living. Though Loki had bluntly refused to put a label on this sentiment he felt for her, the thought of hearing her rejection still cowered him each time.

"You left this." Loki rounded the conference table as he handed out the gilded locket she accidentally dropped that early morning off his pocket.  _Would it be pathetic if she knew that I had it with me every day?_ He pondered absentmindedly. He thought of sending it back to her, but then foolish as it may sound, he wanted something to remind him of her, a token of the time they spent together albeit short. "I would call, but you didn't leave me your number."

The photographed he saw resting inside it took him by surprise. Right after that, Loki waste no time and ask his men to run a background check on her based on the old object. The result came not a week later and it only made the gnawing guilt inside his heart sunk deeper. There was no doubt. She _is_ Hank Lewis’ daughter. Though unfortunately that was not all that he found in the documents.

"Lucky me." Darcy's jaw clenched as she stepped forward and snatched the locket off his hand. 

“I take now you know who I am then. What gives?" He asked, inching closer to where she stood, though still maintaining a distance until all of his subordinates fled out the room.

"Your _reputation_ exceeds you _Mr._ Laufeyson." She answered with a tight smile.

A month ago, Darcy could say a firm 'no' to his question. Today, however, Darcy was perfectly aware of whom he really is. She heard of his last name of course, as everybody else in the borough. Oddly enough, as notorious as the Laufeysons might be, not many had actually seen him in person before. He was good with hiding so it seemed, as expected from someone in his line of business. But life, as always, had its funny way on knocking her off balance, because last night, the evening news brought him straight into her living room. It was merely a glimpse. If they haven't met and spent an awfully intimate time together, she doubted she would recognise that tiny blurred face, wearing a pair of black shade and that cool-cat strut as he swiftly passed by from the Supreme Court's exit. Both mass media, securities and his henchmen were swarming around him like bees and he was towering above them like a beacon, making it impossible for her to miss.

Darcy tracked him right away, his business, the case he was in, everything she could get her hands on. It wasn't that hard since it is practically her day job. What she found a few minutes later left her cold. Out of stupid choices she had done in the past, this could bring home the trophy, because the closed case she saw just fifteen minutes ago? It was of a murder. The victim was none other but his own father. And his _organization?_ Naturally, there was nothing suspicious from the surface, but that didn't stop her. Darcy dug deeper. Four hours and two coffee cups later, she found what her mind had been suspecting. 

The Laufeysons' company line of expertise stretched wide and tight with shady terms like, illegal, black market, and trafficking. What more, those dubious operations grossed his empire over $100 million annually, including his loan shark business. And that last part was what brought her here today. Ouroboros Inc.. The golden circular dragon-like logo that was etched in the corner of dozens of envelope that held those red bills stacking on her lab desk. The very company where her father took his loans from aside from the bank. It was his.

“Was that your plan all along? To lure me to your bed?” She spat the question after the room was empty, save for the two of them.

"If I'm not mistaken, we didn't quite make it to the bed." He chuckled, crossing his hands.

"I asked you a question damn it!" Darcy ignored his suggestive reply though she felt the room temperature ridiculously rising at the way he looked at her.

There was a long pause as they locked their gaze before Loki broke the heavy silence with a sigh, “Would you believe me if I said I haven’t got a clue about who you were that night?”

That was the truth. Laufey's _sudden_ departure had kept his hands full. Besides the company had many capable men and women to lead each of their branch across the country, and loans was never his department to deal with.

“Bullshit.” 

“Then I suppose I don’t have to answer the question do I?” He shrugged.

“Let me get this straight to your thick skull." She hissed, eyes glaring. "I am **never** going to give up the building!” 

“Pray tell then my darling, how do you plan on paying it back?” 

“Whatever my plan is, it's none of your goddamn business!” Darcy stepped forward.

That familiar chuckle flew from his lips with his tongue peeking just slightly between his bared teeth, “Quite the contrary I’m afraid. You’re indebted to _my_ company, therefore, to me.”

“I’m gonna pay everything that my father had owed if that's the last thing I'm gonna do!” _Somehow._

“So you can -" Darcy got one hand rummaging into her satchel. "take _these_ back!” She took out a stack of envelopes holding the notes from his company and threw them towards his desk, though some missed and slipped off.

Those notes were his mistakes. For finding out about Hank's debt a little too late. He could lend him the money, _heck,_ he would have given them if only he knew. As luck would have it, the year the old man made his loan was the same year when he was still living abroad, patching up rough deals in Laufey's stead. Loki's fingers reached for the reading glasses perched on his jacket pocket. He put them on before he collected one of the envelopes and slowly opened it.

“I can offer you a help.” He put the paper aside after re-reading it for a short while.

She scoffed, jutting her chin, daring him. “And _why_ would you do that? Charity? Pity? I seriously doubt you even have a heart!”

“Ouch!” He placed a palm over his chest.

“Save it. What I need from you is _more_ time. You don't have to send your men, or send anymore of those! I'm not going to run away from my own home.” She said. Now that she already spoke of the purpose of her visit, her feet were readily retreating, creating a distance between them.

“Ten million dollars Darcy." He spelled the obvious before flicking his eyes back to Darcy, "That is a _lot_ of money.”

 _Ha! You don't say!_ "Hence,  _mooore_ time!" She answered stubbornly.

“Darcy ...” 

“What?” She stopped in her track at the way he uttered her name. There was no tease nor barb on his earnest yet intimate tone, just like the way he whispered it many times to her ears that night.

“I’m serious. I can help. Let me help you.” He insisted.

“For the last time. I don’t need help from someone like you!” Kindness suited him ill. The fake concern she thought he gave only fumed her further. 

“So you’re willing to lose everything, everything that your father had worked for all his life along with the building, your home?” He sauntered closer until they were standing feet to feet.

Pretending their close proximity didn't stir her, she grabbed him by his silver silk tie and tug him lower until their eyes lined up on a par, "Listen here, we had one night, one! It meant _nothing_ to me! And it certainly didn't give you a permission to meddle your fancy ass into my life!"

“Be reasonable," Loki did not shy away either, in fact, he could stay that way all day. Though less hostility wouldn't hurt. "you can't even cover the monthly interest and the fact that you can't only worsen your credit. There’s no possible way you’re gonna get yourself out of this neck deep debt. Whether you like it or not, right now, I am your only way out. Admit it.”

Distraughtly, she looked down, at those envelopes that scattered bright in contrast to Loki's hardwood floor. 

“What’s in it for you? What - do you want from me?” Her grip lessened.

With ease, he gathered her close until he thought he could almost hear the clamour of her rapid heartbeat. He wished he could breathe her fear in, to steal her burden and make it his own. The thought gave him the right boost to collect his deteriorating determination to carry on with his selfish plan. It was now or never.

“You.”

" _Excuse me?!_ " Her eyes widen in shock and her hand fell completely though his was still warm and heavy around her waist.

"You heard me." He held on tighter, preventing her from dashing away.

" _Me?"_ Darcy pointed to herself in total disbelief, "In exchange for - for _ten million dollars?_ "

"Yes."

Her anger took an icy turn. Darcy pushed him away and this time he didn't do anything to prevent her. "Are you out of your _fucking_ mind?!" She asked, clutching her hand in front of her body as if trying to put an invisible barricade between them.

"Probably. Yes." He admitted with such conviction and calmness that almost made Darcy thought that she was the one whose mind was off the rocker, "That doesn't change the fact that I still want you."

Cold silence stretched as they stared at each other. Drowned in the green pool of his eyes, she finally realized that he wasn't joking. "That is quite a high price for a good fuck wouldn't you say?" 

The blunt jab chastened him. Loki shook his head tentatively, his mouth took a disapproval curve. "You are so much more than that Darcy Lewis." 

“You want me to be your full-time whore - is that correct?” She asked again, disregarding his response completely.

With clenched jaw he put no heed to his conscience and said, “That is too strong of a word for it. No, I want you to be my companion." _My lover._  

“Which still means you’re gonna fuck me, is that how this plan goes in your twisted mind?”

“No.”

"No?" She sounded baffled at his short reply.

He lifted his hand, warily reaching out to her. His long fingers were about to trace the side of her face, but they fell cold at the way her eyes threw daggers at him. In the end he opted to tuck on her locks instead, feather soft, painstakingly gentle, as if she was too precious, too delicate to touch. 

“No my sweet darling," He curled his fingers there, "we - are going to _fuck_ each other.”

A wave of electric streamed down her spine at the statement. “That’s not gonna happen!" She slapped his hand away after she had recovered from the shock. "And I at least worth a thousand times more than that! So I suggest you better leave me the fuck alone!”

“Darcy. I mean it. I can erase your complications, the money your father owed from my company, the bank loan, everything.” Loki's hand was still outstretched, burned where she batted him off. His heart was incline to touch her again but he held back, instead he clenched his fists. 

“Don’t you remember? That night. We were so good together weren't we? Or have you forgotten already?”

“Maybe I have.” Despite her even tone, her round eyes blinked nervously.

“You’re one terrible liar Darcy Lewis,” He tipped his head to the side, ”Maybe I should remind you of how _good_  we were?”

“Okay. _No!_  " Slightly panicked when she thought he was about to advance on her again, she took another step back. It wasn't because she fears he would do anything against her will, _nope,_ she feared that if he did, she would let him. "Yes, you were amazing, the sex _was_ amazing, but I don’t want anything more from you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or your way of living! Do I make myself clear?”

That wicked wolfish smile rose again, “You think I was amazing?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Oh please! That is beside the point! No matter how many times you made me - ”

Mortified, she stopped, realizing her mistake a second too late. _Fuck it!_

He raised a brow, a taunting smirk was hanging in the corner of his lips, "Come?"

Crimson washed her face as she scowled at him, "My decision stands."

"The arrangement will be strictly confidential and temporary." _The whole remainder of the time I have,_  his wretched mind conveyed unwillingly. "Three months, that is all. Then you can leave, consider it never happen."

"Think about it Darcy." He slipped a leaf of his business card into her green flannel's outer pocket, "Think of it as a business deal. What have you got to lose?"

 _My pride for one! My conscience goddammit!_ "You're a monster!" She told him before she turned to leave.

"Darcy I -- " 

"I hate you!" She shouted, flipping him a finger without bothering to look back.

And just like that, the petite spitfire stormed out of the room the way she came. Loki let her walked for about five minutes before he took off his reading glasses and jacket suit and went after her.

The street was packed and the sun was almost set outside. He was walking about ten feet behind her, following the path she walked on while making sure that she didn't notice his presence. Loki didn't want to stalk, he just didn't want to send her off pissed, it wasn't actually a safe neighbourhood to begin with. He took a sudden stop by a random street food stall when she made a turn to a bar at their left. She pushed the door roughly and settled on one of the stools. She motioned two fingers at the bartender before collapsing her face into her palms. His chest ached at the sight, like a rigged knife slowly speared through his heart.

The cold vapor from his breath started to dwell like thin fog in his vision as the gray sky grew darker. Loki didn't know how long he waited out there or how many shots she had drunk, but before the clock hit ten, he saw her pulling out the card he gave. She also conversed with it, most probably consisted of series of curses, as if the inanimate object would gave her a reply. At one point, he didn't think she would actually call him, but then she finally fetched out her phone and dialed. His phone vibrated in response. He counted to three, steeling himself, before he answered it. 

There was not a greeting. With a slurred voice she said, "You win. You can have me ... in exchange for my father's - " The line went dead before she finished her words. From the corner of his eyes he saw her shoulders slumped over the counter before her head followed. Loki finally ran inside, as fast as his feet could take him.

 

***

 

_**Present day** _

 

Treading his way up the stairs Loki slowly runs his hand along the railing, outlining the smooth steel under his fingertips. This familiar old building and the breezy afternoon brought back memories, pleasant memories and now he finally gets a chance to visit it once more.

His hand arrives on the knob, hoping to find it locked only to be disappointed. Slightly perturbed by the fact of the resident’s lack of self-safety awareness, he goes inside. 

“Jane, why the heck didn't you bring your mobile - _again?_ Your Swedish boy-toy had been calling you all morning.“ Darcy idly asks without looking up from the computer screen. 

“Good afternoon Miss Lewis.” Loki greets lightly whilst leaning the side of his arm on the door-frame, sliding one hand into the side pocket of his navy dress pants as he scans about the room. Not much has changed. There are four desks placed in a row, brilliant sunlight floods from the floor-to-ceiling windows that situated along the side. Darcy is sitting in one at the far left. Her hair, her soft rosy cheeks are illuminated ethereally by the golden hues though her relaxed expression hardens at his sudden intrusion. 

“Did you receive the flowers I sent?” He asks with a smile, welcoming himself into the threshold.

“I did.” She swallows her nerves, automatically pressing the Command + S button, while the other hand is quietly grabbing for the taser she hides under the organizer. 

With the familiar jaunt, he steps closer to where she sits. “Did you not like them?”

She clears her suddenly dried throat, “Threw them out. I’m allergic.” 

“Not from what I’ve heard.” 

"Well, clearly you heard wrong. You know nothing about me." The white rose bouquet he sent this morning was huge and exquisite, all twelve blooming stems of them. Must be one lucky wild guess. He couldn't possibly know that those are her favourite!

He halts his steps, scrutinizing his gaze up and down her person with precise calculation. “That’s quite untrue." I _know_ every inch of you, his eyes conveyed the words he didn't speak.

Catching the unspoken message, hues of pink creep to her pale complexion, “What do you want now?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to collect my prize. I've shown you what I can do and now it's your turn.” He states matter-of-factly.

 _Oh crap! You and your smart mouth Lewis!_  The gears inside her mind turn, “That night - I was drunk! I haven’t sign anything and my friends, they will be back soon and –“

“They won’t be back so soon. They should be at - " He pauses to take a peek at his wristwatch, his brows furrowing in feign aloofness, "my office right about now.” 

Her mouth opens in agape as she rises from the chair she was sitting in, “What?! What have you done? They mustn’t know! They can’t!”

“ _Shh,_ of course, I gave you my words didn't I? My men are just relaying on some generic details, _basically,_ explaining that you're in good hands, no sour deal whatsoever. That we're going to take care and treat you with nothing but the utmost respect.” 

“Is that what you call this? Showing up here, unannounced -  your  _utmost_ respect?” She watches in alert as he rounds to the side until he arrives right behind her. Darcy turns immediately, but that only makes him standing in front of her, cornering her before her own desk. Clearly, much too close for her comfort. She couldn't possibly escape without looking like a coward so she decides to stand firm, making no attempt of flinching away, fully intends to not let him see how much he affects her.

“That. And _more_ , which is precisely why I'm here." He licks his lip and the simple gesture makes her stomach twists. 

"Oh I see, so this is how you usually start your 'engagement' with women? Are you going to take me by force now? Hauling me on your shoulder?"

"Is that what you think of me?" He dips one hand into his pants' pocket, quirking a brow, motioning towards the taser in her hand. "I remember doing no such thing."

To be completely fair, he's right, Darcy thinks, annoyed yet helplessly aroused at the recollection of what happened that night. He did nothing of the sort. In fact, he played the perfect gentleman from start to finish. "I wouldn't be surprised." 

He doesn't reply the barb she throws at him, instead he closes their distance with one large step. He cups her by the cheek, tugs off her glasses and fold them nicely on her desk. "That's way too crude, even for me."

Swiftly, before she could further react to his words, he spreads her thighs with a nudge of his leg, opening her up so that he could settle soundly there. Her breath hitches, her mind goes blank. Hypnotized by his mesmerizing smile, his captivating eyes. Steadily yet gently, his hands cradle her head, leaning closer and closer with every word he whispers,

"I would rather start it with - a kiss."

At the next second, he crashes his lips to hers. Tentatively at first, as if he isn't actually kissing her but breathing her in instead. Or perhaps, he's simply giving her a chance to make him stop.

She doesn't. Instead she lets go of the taser her right hand has been holding on to and it thuds when it hits the ground. A soft, delirious hum escapes her lips as she lowers her lids and closes her eyes.

Like wildfire, that heat, the hunger he ignites within her roars to life. Her blood sings and her feet feel like flying. To his delight, the attraction between them haven't lessened and so does her reaction towards his touch. She reciprocates his gesture and opens her lips, running her fingers over his raven hair before they cling around his neck to keep the kiss alive.

"I've missed you ..." He murmurs in-between their bruising kisses.

"Before tonight ends, I am going to kiss you _here -_ " He trails lower, his breathing intensifies. His lips are wet and his breath is hot on her nape as he kneads her breast before pinching softly on one nipple, eliciting a heated whimper from her lips, "and _here -"_ he repeats the same treatment to the other peak. He doesn't stop there, his hand goes lower, along the curve of her body until it settles between her thighs. "And _here."_ He puts pressure as he rubs his thumb on her throbbing center, where her knickers is already damp and her insides moist.

"Loki!" She sobs out when he shifts the thin material to the side, giving him access to push two of his fingers inside, to touch her slick heat, to tease between the folds, making her writhes more fervently, her whimpers more ardently. Her body curves towards his chest, taut as a drawn bow. Frantically, her palms clutch tighter to the lapel of his jacket suit, urging his fluent fingers to keep on playing their maddening tune. 

"Have you thought of it too?" He pushes her backward, until her ass rests on the surface of her desk. Charging random objects aside, making them free-falling to the floor, joining her forgotten taser, but they no longer give a damn. His other hand bunches the dress-shirt she wears high around her hips and her legs are snaking around his waist, intertwined by the ankles.

"Me, on my knees, licking your juice," He pushes deeper, in and out of her, the sloshing sound it makes drives him crazy and solid hard, "eating your sweet, tight cunt? Or my fingers inside of you, just like this, exactly like this, mapping every ridge of you, making you come?" He accentuates each word with a sinful twist and curl, spurring her closer to the precipice.

"Oh god!" Her walls clenching at his words.

"Have you?" He drawls.

"Yes!" _Fuck!_

The honest answer almost breaks his logic. He's painfully on edge with this sizzling fire burning between his legs. A fire only she could cease. He bends down and nibbles on the plump of her lower lip before he claims her mouth again. 

Their breathing rough against each other's skin as he grinds his rock hard cock to her belly, seeking further friction. Her hand welcomes it. The fabric of his pants is the only thing that separates the contact as she runs her small palm from tip to root, making his grunts grow harsher each time. Their kiss deepens, his tongue joins the exploration, his touch goes wilder. He works her faster as she pumps his shaft harder. At one point, the telltale of her breathing reveals that she's about to explode and despite his better judgement, his would definitely follow soon after.

With strenuous effort and the last string of his sanity, he stops, drawing his fingers out of her. Hesitant to tear himself away, he rests his forehead on hers, "Let's save this for later," He drops a kiss to the tip of her nose, her lids, his chest is still heaving, "I need, I _want_ you to submit yourself to me first." _I want you to really want me too._

Angered and totally mortified at what almost happened on top of her desk, she shoves him away. “Get off me!” 

"Tonight," He licks the remaining fluid off his fingers, her sweet scent lingers. He straightens his posture, still trying to control his breathing as well as gathering his composure, which is _hard_ when he sees her thoroughly debauched in that disheveledstate. "meet me tonight, we can further discuss everything. Then we will continue where we left off.”

" _Heck_ , you're here now, why must we meet again tonight?" She protests, trying to rise from the desk, to stand taller, but her weakened legs wouldn't cooperate. 

“What time should I pick you up Miss Lewis?” He asks, ignoring her complain.

“I _hate_ you.” She blurts.

“You told me already.” His lips quirked but his expression is unreadable, “Seven? Eight?"

“Don't think too hard." He continues whilst smoothing his messed-up hair and suit, though it's impossible for him to hide the visible bulge on his pants. "It's not that complicated. I assure you, this is simpler than what you thought. Yes, there will be sex, eventually, but my darling, you will enjoy it as much as I do, and I promise you, I will never _ever_ do anything against your will.“

"What's the rule? How is this _thing,_ whatever this is, going to play? You're gonna expect me to come whenever you call? Is that it? Because I can't. I'm busy and you're not the boss of me!” She puts her specs back on like a shield. _Heck, if he can talk about it casually, then so can I!_

“But of course milady, I will not bother you with such a disgraceful call." He shakes his head, driving her already dazed mind even more confused.

 _He - won't?_ "No?"

"No. That won't be necessary because by the end of this week you will move in with me.”

For Darcy, the soft spoken words sound more like a thunder in the middle of bright summer. “I - _what?!”_

“Tonight. We’ll talk.” Loki says again, contends with his decision.

“I _can’t_ possibly just move away with you! Who do you think you are? You know what, forget that, I don't give a damn of who you think you are - spending my days and nights with you is definitely out of the question! “ She shouts, but to further her irk, he just walks away. _That bastard!_

“8PM. Don’t be late.” He reminds her once more before he closes the door and left her standing in utter frustration. 

 

***

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, there will be no dubious consent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like my dark, smutty, moody self is making a reappearance. What joy ;p
> 
> Enjoy darlings!
> 
> xxoo
> 
> P.S. : I owe this chapter to Angelikus :* but incase you guys still spot an error or more that is definitely my doing and not her ;p

* * *

 

*** 

 

Curling her hands around her body, Darcy took a look around the empty lab from where she stood. Now that their minds were at ease, Jane and Erik had left early, finally going back to their own place after weeks of keeping her company. A small object bumped at her toes when she shifted her weight to her other feet. She glanced down. A pencil. She must've missed it when she tidied up earlier. She picked it up with a huff and placed it back into the tin with the rest of her pens. Her stationeries were no longer scattered on the ground right under her desk, and so did the remainder of her dignity.

With his Devil may care attitude, Loki had left about two hours ago. Leaving her with an impossible request that she simply couldn't agree upon.

 _Was he out of his fucking mind?_  To sleep with him was one thing, but to spend days, weeks, or months even—together with that monster?  _That_  would be taking it too far. 

_But what other options do you have?_

Grunting in annoyance she leaned forward, placing both palms flat on the edge of the same desk he cornered her not long ago and she found her traitorous body involuntary tingling in response to the memory.  _Dammit!_  What had she gotten herself into?

To be honest, this was not what she had in mind when she decided to move back in town. All she knew was that she had to do something to save what her dad had left behind. In that aspect, for once, luck was on her side, because working for a clandestine government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D meant that she could promptly ask for relocation from her current station. Not that her position there was of any importance (hardly).

In between juggling the monthly ghost report for the "American Historical Society" and her actual job, which was running and tracing codes, looking for hidden meanings or cryptic messages behind books, newspapers, magazines, journals etc. she was always online, stuck behind a desk, in front of the computer. She wouldn't lie; it got quite boring at times. Though it was definitely not what she had pictured when they first recruited her fresh from Culver, at least it pays the bills and with proper internet connection that kind of work can actually be done from almost everywhere. So with a green pass from the head department, she left her rundown apartment in New Mexico and settled back to Brooklyn Heights. 

The first flight she took felt almost like a trip back in time because as her feet stepped inside this second story brown-bricked building made-shift lab, she was back into her old room, her old life. From the Spice Girl posters and the framed picture of the last time her family of three went on a vacation to Coney Island beside her purple bed, it was clear that her father had kept everything in the same order since the day she left for college in West Virginia. Seeing those, she knew she had made the right decision to come home.

 _“But I can’t possibly move in with him!”_  she argued with herself.

A sudden ring from her phone startled her. She peered at the screen and found that the caller’s number was set to private. This could only mean one thing. The office.

Without hesitation, she answered it before another ring.

“Agent Lewis,” the stern voice with a drawl of a familiar accent greeted her.

 _Holy shit it’s -_ “Director – Fury?!” her brows knitted in a confused frown.

Something was wrong. It must be. Was he going to fire her? The Director never contacted her directly before this.  _Heck!_  The last time Darcy had seen his shiny bald head was inside the boardroom for the R&D’s department final interview.

“Is there – is there something the matter Sir? I’ve sent my latest reading last night. With the new link for the firewall and – “

“No. Listen, I have another job for you,” he impatiently bypassed her midsentence.

 _A job?_ “Yes?” then - she wasn't going to lose her job, right?!

“I heard you always wanted an active duty on the field – correct?”

Her eyes lighted up, her lips curled into a grin. “Yes sir, that was what I actually wanted to apply for before they decided to place me in the R&D.“

“Well now is your chance to prove your worth,” he said swiftly.

“I'll do my best Sir,” Darcy answered in eager.

“Good call,” he paused, “For a start, tell me about Loki Laufeyson. Does that name ring a bell to you?”

“I – yes, of course, everyone in this part of the town knows his name,” the question took her off guard. “He’s the new C.E.O for the Laufeyson’s Corporation. I can send you all the details about him as we speak,” Literally. She had been prying over his company affairs not a week ago after all.

“I heard that he’s on to you.” There was no reply from her end and so Fury carried on, “He came to you, didn’t he?”

But - Loki just left not two hours ago … “Yes, but how did you – “

Darcy could hear the smirk on the Director’s tone as he replied, “It is  _my_ job to know Lewis,” and considering that she was one of the agency’s employees, it is always mandatory, if not necessary, to plant a micro bug in one of their belongings.

“What’s Loki Laufeyson has to do with  _my_  job?” she asked promptly.

“His corporation has been on my list for the longest time.  _However,_  not a soul, not even one rat ever had an access to enter his circle. He was like a phantom, a fucking ghost. Untouchable. Untraceable. Until today.” Fury had planted his men in every part of the town. Though he could not get anything substantial from them at least this time they weren’t at all that useless.

Some of them were there, watching from a safe distance when Darcy Lewis entered the Laufeyson’s building a few days ago. And to further please Fury, earlier, another two of them saw a repeat performance when the man came to where the girl was staying.

“You want me to get inside,” Darcy connected the dot.

“Precisely,” he always knew she was a smart girl.

“And … what should I be looking for exactly?” not to prematurely dishearten herself, but she worked with codes, not criminals.

“Infiltrate his system without getting detected. You’re one of our bests, I’m sure you can manage. Report anything suspicious in his weekly traffic, things like huge amount of funds being transferred in and out of another countries.”

“How  _huge_  are we talking about here?” she tapped her fingers to the desk’s surface.

“Over twenty billions.”

 _Weekly?_  "Over twenty –  _billions?!”_  she gasped, astonished. That was way more than the amount she read in his files. Was there something she missed? “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never heard of a family corporation cartwheeling on drugs or prostitution or whatever shit they’re into right now could gross that high.”

A dark, sinister chuckle erupted from the other line, “ _Kid,_  if you haven’t figured out already,  _those_  aren’t my division. And definitely not our biggest concern at the moment,” a slight pause as he exhaled, “Those scums are playing with  _something_  bigger, and I can’t tell you just yet until I’m fully certain and for me to be fully certain you're gonna have to obey whatever the motherfucker asked of you, make him happy, make him sloppy and you get to work. Do I make myself clear?”

That was not the real reason on why the Director is sparing her from the bigger picture. But standing at her rank, there was nothing a lowly agent like her could do about it. So Darcy just swallowed the lump of doubt in her throat and left it at that, “Crystal Sir.”

“You will be discreet. Aside from me, the only one you can trust is Agent Coulson. He will be your contact from now on. Ask him for anything you might need,” he added.

“Understood Sir,” Darcy knew the Director couldn’t see her, but she nodded her head repeatedly anyway.

“Alright. Good luck on your first mission Agent.” And with that, he ended the connection.

Depositing her ass towards the chair, Darcy stared blankly at her phone. Replaying one of the most surreal conversations she ever had, though not the most inconvenient. That was basically a promotion she never dared to ask. And what was even better, it had spared her from the headache of having to decide on what to do with Loki.

Should be easy - right? Now that the decision has been made for her, she just had to brace her heart and go face the monster herself.

 

***

 

The crescent moon was hanging high and its luminous silver light lent the cold, breezy night a faery glow that almost got her thinking that maybe, this moment she was dreading about, is nothing but a foolish dream. Or was it an impending nightmare?

As always, looking imposingly tall and edible (she might not like him, but she wasn't blind to the obvious), dressed in his usual impeccable suit, Loki was already waiting when she arrived fifteen minutes late (a long, icy shower was badly needed). The young man he sent to pick her up waited at the entrance and silently disappeared before the door was closing in behind his boss' guest.

With her usual glare, Darcy stood there, as formal as her casual attire let her. She straightened her posture when she saw him approaching. Jutting her chin in defiance when his disarming gaze roamed over her, making her inside ached and her skin tingled on its wake.

 

“I sent you a dress,” he finally spoke.

“I noticed, yours?” she quipped, not dropping her eyes, not wanting to let him detect the building tremor she felt inside. If she wanted to do her first mission right, she had to maintain her previous position. A sudden obedience would only arouse his suspicion.

Agent or not, she didn’t want to humour him with playing the part of a prey. It didn’t matter what he had done for her. She wasn’t going to let him lead her by the head. With that thought in mind, Darcy ignored the beautiful black dress lying inside a linen box on the Land Rover’s leather seat and instead, settled with her white oversized buttons-up shirt, black leggings and a pair of her favourite comfy combat boots.

"Are we going to just stand here or are you going to lead the way? Not that I would mind," she perched a hand to her hip, taunting him.

“We are going to remedy that attitude of yours, Darcy Lewis,” he spoke slowly, dangerously.

“Good luck trying.”

“Oh I will. Luck has nothing to do with it. Come,” he offered his hand, suddenly standing far too close that she could smell his scent—something very clean, subtle and expensive.

“I can’t stay for too long,” she sharply looked at the outstretched hand, but not taking it.

Loki tipped his head with a feral smile as he settled his palm on the small of her back, “Then let’s not waste another minute, shall we?” 

With large, unhurried steps, he led her to a dining hall in the west wing of the mansion. She took a mental note on everything her eyes landed on. Aside from lines of closed doors, they walked past a jet black grand piano, set in the middle of a lounge with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining on the walls surrounding it. Their echoing steps were the only sound inside this huge place. She was beginning to think that there are no one else but the two of them until a butler with a kind visage and clear blue eyes showed up to greet them before the dining room. Without a single unnecessary utterance, the man catered to them until it was time for dessert.

As expected, dinner with him was an extravagant affair where those small portions of meals prepared for them looked more like art fixed on a plate. She had no fucking idea on which knife, spoon or fork to use, so she just used the pair lied closest to her plate and dug in without a care.

Everything tasted subliminal and the butler seemed to be very pleased when he saw her clean plates that his face was practically beaming. Admittedly, she was  _kinda_  hungry (anger and sexual frustration could do that to a girl), but what pushed her to finish all those food was because that wistful look she saw flashing on the butler's face, like he was silently seeking for her approval. Setting what she felt about his employer aside, who was she to break his heart?

Surprisingly, throughout those courses, Loki was the one that broke the silence with small talks such as telling her he was sorry he could not pick her up himself because he had an urgent matter to deal with. He also asked on how her day was and how it felt to be back in town, as if he knew her long before this, as if they were nothing but an old acquaintance sharing a meal together. Since being rude wasn't in her nature, she responded in kind (that is, if one considered "not your goddamn business" to be polite), albeit in short sentences and without asking the questions back to him.

This tug of familiarity he projected unsettled her, and the almost friendly gesture annoyed her. Worse yet, it reminded her of the man whom she shared the most unforgettable night a month before instead of the malevolent man he actually is. That was why she's thankful for the presence of the butler, though not much of a help, he did ease the increasing tension a bit.

 

“Leave us,” not bothering to look up from his glass of wine, Loki finally dismissed the other man.

“I hope you enjoyed your dinner,” he spoke again after there was no one in the room safe for the two of them.

The long oak table was almost empty. There were only small plates of their untouched desserts and half drank glasses, a bottle of 1941 Cabernet Sauvignon and a gorgeous centerpiece of white roses blooming in the middle.

“If you were trying to distract me with all these,” Darcy waved to the table, “it’s not working.”

Ever so slowly, Loki set down the glass in front of him and flicked his smouldering eyes at her, “ _If_  I were to distract you Darcy Lewis, food wouldn’t even be on the menu.”

Hot flush crept up her cheeks at his bold statement, “Can we just get down to business? Told you I haven't got much time.”

“Always so eager.” 

“Why me?" she asked, cocking her head, "Why did you choose me when you can buy yourself  _dozens_  of others, obviously more willing women with the same price?” 

He threw her a look of mock confusion, “Why not?” 

“We’re strangers. That night, I believe the thing that happened between us was a mistake—,”

“So you believed me.” 

“I was speaking for myself. And as I was saying, it was nothing but a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Not for me,” he kept his stare as he rose from his seat; his low voice was thick like sin, rich and silken, “I can’t stop thinking about you ever since that night.”

Smoothly yet surely, he sauntered towards where she sat, with that elegant and disturbingly sexy strut of his. “I've already set a room for you upstairs. You don't even have to pack a thing,” he spoke casually as he removed his suit jacket whilst looking down to where she sat. Making room, he set aside her wine glass and the china that held the blueberry pavlova. After that, he perched his fine ass on the edge of the table, the jacket folded right behind him.

“Give me one good reason,” Darcy squared her shoulders and leaned backwards, wanting to escape from the sudden closeness between them. Alas, he was lounging right in front of her.

“For one, you can have your way with me anytime, anywhere you want,” he smirked and arrogantly shrugged as he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

Darcy scoffed, almost rolling her eyes, “Such  _generosity_. What if I  _don’t_ want to?”

“I can be  _very_  persuasive,” he rested his hands on his wide-apart lap. Unlike most men, those beautiful jade eyes of his were looking, searching intently at her face and not at her boobs.

“Oh really?” she asked cynically, crossing both hands on her chest, shielding herself from the towering man.

“Yes really. You see, I have  _everything_  planned right here," he pointed to his temple, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“For starters, there’s this table,” his right hand lightly tapped the sturdy furniture’s smooth surface.

Her eyes narrowed in question and that devilish glint in his quickly alarmed her for what was about to come.

“And I've been imagining you on top of it as I savour  _every_  inch of your skin,” he bluntly told her.

Without another word he suddenly bent down and took her chin with his hand, angling her face to meet his. He stroked her lips with his thumb whilst biting his lip. The action drew her eyes to them, on how soft and kissable they look. She tried her damnest not to stare at them, really, but she can't fucking help it! He was magnetizing, drawing her into his current and she couldn't escape the pull even if she wanted to. Her heart was beating erratically and she could feel her body flushed. Darcy swallowed hard, the tip of her tongue came to swept her suddenly dry lips. At that, his expression shifted, coldness no longer veneering his beautiful face and the next thing she knew, his lips were touching hers.

Loki firmly took her by the waist as if she was weightless and seized her in a passionate kiss, rendering her into a mess of quivering nerves. In one swift and precise move, he switched their position so that now she was the one whose ass is leaning back to the table. His mouth never left hers as he deepened their kiss with a slide of his tongue. At the same time, he pushed her backwards until she was fully seated on top of the dining table.

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. There was something in the way he kissed, the way he pushed and pulled against her lips in dozens of ways no man ever did before, ways that she couldn't even begin to break into words, Darcy thought, as she chased his lips, keeping their kiss and the embers inside her alive, alighting a spark until she could feel something rising from beneath her skin, tingling, electrifying, making her blood sing and her head blissfully drunk. Then those big hands of his, those palms were resting on her knees, started to spread her apart and perched her feet on each of his side resting them on top of the arms of the chair as he positioned himself between her legs. Descending his hands firmly, he moved lower to her ankles and took off her boots and dug those long fingers along the length of her legs towards her upper body.

With one palm to her jaw, he canted her head, finally ending their bruising kiss. Instead, he brought his lips to her ear. Then came the whisper. Swear to god, being this close, hearing that voice of his felt like some weird magic being cast at her. The sound was enchanting, alluring, much like the man himself, “Soon you will be calling out my name, begging me to let you come as I eat your sweet  _sweet_  cunt. How would you like that Darcy?”

The imaginary lines she drew began to blur as she wound her fingers to his soft sable hair. She clutched them tighter when he started to nibble on her ear, her neck down to her clavicle. Just like before, Darcy found herself once again, unable to resist him. As he had confidently said, he would not take anything she wasn't willing to give. And he didn't. As reckless as the moment was and for a reason she could not, would not comprehend, somehow her head is fully aware that  _this_  was not because she had a job to do. That he was not a mission assigned to her and how awfully wrong she was for feeling that way.

Darcy didn't care. She couldn't.

Each praising word brought his hands closer to her naked skin as he unbuttoned her shirt before adeptly tugging the nylon blend leggings off her hips until they rolled mid-thighs, giving him enough access to touch her more. “Do you want me to lick your honey until it gushes all over my hand like it did before?” He punctuated the word with pressing, circling, tapping his thumb to her cotton covered folds which was now beginning to dampen profusely.

She tampered down her moan, which was getting difficult when it felt like the logical part of her brain was starting to shut off, giving way to reckless desires, letting it reigned over her body once more.

“And what then? You’re going to force yourself on me?” she asked a second before he slipped a finger into her, making her gasp.

“Then nothing,” he replied airily, sliding out the finger off her cunt—the finger that had glistened, lubricated with her juice. He brought it to his mouth, sucking it clean as he momentarily closed his eyes, as if he was tasting something that was even sweeter than the wine they shared.

“If you want me to fill you up and  _fuck_  you properly,” he opened those razor-sharp eyes of his as he playfully nudged the straining erection at her, letting her know just how bad he wanted her, “You’re gonna have to submit yourself to me first.”

“Darling, look at you—,” he cupped her breast when the stubborn woman kept her silence. He rolled his finger on its peak as he watched her reaction, how those cheeks of her burn red and bright, her ragged choppy breath and the way she trashed her head around, making her long brown hair cascading on her shoulders, on her back, as if she was riding against the wind, “So beautiful, exquisite. So ready for me.”

Frustrated and extremely turned on, Darcy arched her back, curving into his touch, seeking more heat, more friction that only his clever hands could give. 

“Do you submit?” he softly pinched her beaded nipple, fondling the heavy globe.

“No,” she voiced the answer with a sharp whine that made the rejection sounded empty even to her own ears.

“No? You sure about that?” he chuckled and repeated the movement that garnered the same reaction out of her.

“Let me ask you again sweetheart. Do. You. Submit?” he accentuated each word with a squeeze to her breast, while capturing the peak between his two fingers, pinching it sharply.

“In your dreams,” but her body refused to go with her brain as she pressed her breast to his palm, panting hard.

Looking up, he hovered closer to her chest and through the flimsy material of her bra, took one beaded nipple to his mouth and murmured, “Very well then,  _you_  will be my dessert tonight.”

His eyes never left hers; hypnotizing, deep and thriving like the river, the sea. The brilliant green she saw earlier had shifted to a darker hue with a hint of midnight blue, and now the pupils blown to black completely, giving her a peek of what force he was hiding beneath his skin. 

“Sit still darling, we don’t want to drop you off the table now, do we?” he grasped her hip, steadying her and, with his other hand, he took hers in his palm, adjoined it with his much bigger, longer ones. “Eyes on me, Darcy. On us,” he whispered as he slipped her panties aside and inserted two of his calloused fingers _and_  two of hers inside her throbbing heat.

Darcy cried out from the sensation and from the visual that he presented. She couldn’t believe what he was doing, what he made them do together. It was positively dirty yet she found herself getting wetter by the second. Judging from the pleased almost purr-like sound he made in the back of his throat, it was easy to say that he noticed it too.

“It feels  _so_  good, doesn’t it?” he asked smugly while kissing the exposed skin on her neck softly as he kept the movement of their fingers and brought them even deeper.

“Oh God!” Darcy moaned when he made a sudden retreat before diving back in again to that same spot. Seriously, at this rate, she was not going to last.

“ _Tsk - tsk,_  it’s Loki, darling. Say it. Say my name,” he chided in a conversational tone, as if they were talking about the weather over a cup of coffee.

She shut her mouth, trying hard not to come that instant, or simply to ignore the fact that they were still finger-fucking her pussy.

“Let me show you something  _fascinating,_ ” he breathed to her nape.

Unable to hold herself any longer, Darcy swayed her head forth, until it rested on the crook of his neck, biting the tender skin before soothing him with a lick of her tongue. At the next stroke, a mouthful of desperate pleas overflowing from her lips. 

“Did you know I found about where exactly is your  _sweet_  spot that night?” he whispered as he returned the favour, marking her with gentle bites while, down there, the pad of his thumb was drawing random patterns on her clit as the other fingers found their destination, “I haven’t forgotten darling, here, let me show you.”

"Feel that?" He curled his fingers and dragged hers to move along with him. "That's the one. You might want to memorize that."

“OH - ooh,  _mmmhh_  Loki, Loki I – can’t, no,”  _Oh shit - I’m going to come, he’s going to make me come!_ “Stop!”

To her surprise, he did. He stopped. Which only enraged her further. What the fuck was he playing? She was  _thisclose_  and he actually - stopped?!

Throwing her care to the wind, with her own fingers that were still buried inside of her, she chased her own release. She wasn't going to let him tease her like he did earlier at her place!

But then his wrist went stiff. He held her and stopped any attempt of movement altogether.

“Fuck! Loki!” Against her better judgment, she actually protested. 

“I thought you wanted me to stop,” He said, “Do you?” he looked down as he made the tiniest movement inside her.

 _I hate this man!_  “No. I want you to make me come,” she blurted before she could change her mind.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiled so deviously as he started to pump their fingers again, nudging on that spot he mentioned before, the one she never thought actually existed. Turned out, he proved her wrong. Before long, Darcy’s hips were jerking uncontrollably as she gasped and called out his name aloud. She could feel the moment where her walls clenching in their fingers tighter and tighter.

“Darling girl,  _fuck,_  you’re squeezing my fingers, you’re close aren’t you?” he grunted, a concoction of lust and awe were apparent on his face. His own hips were slightly rising from the chair until he was sitting right on the edge of it. He couldn't wait to pound his cock into her.  _Fuck!_  He even thought just by looking at her might push him into coming inside his pants.

“Yes –  _yes!_  Fuck, Loki, please,” she mewled wildly, gyrating her hips to meet his touch.

“I’m not done love,” he smirked as he rose and pushed her further until her back was lying flat on the table. Afterwards, he bent his head even lower to capture her flourished, swollen lips in an openmouthed kiss that made her body grew tauter.

“There’s nothing sweeter _, oh gods,_  Darcy, you’re  _utterly_  delicious,” his tongue was hot and slick against her. And that wicked sound he made was undeniably arousing. He suckled on her hard before he ran his tongue wide and flat on her lips as their fingers danced inside her cunt, pressing circles, on and on to that one spot against her pelvis, driving her mad.

"Guide them darling, show me how fast, how hard you want to be touched," he urged her on with his spellbinding voice. 

She could no longer cage the moans and gasps escaping from her lips as she ground her pelvis to literally fuck his mouth with both her heels resting on his shoulders. And those adjoined fingers? She worked them even faster, pressing his calloused tips against her sensitive walls.

"That's it, let go Darcy, let it go. I'll hold you, let me hold you," he told her. 

Darcy wasn't sure whether he was talking about her building orgasm or the rage she harboured for him, but she didn't have enough clarity to think it through. Her senses were heightened at the mounting arousal; watching the way he looked at her, watching what he was doing to her. Those sloppy kisses he made, the sloshing sound gathered by his lips and fingers from her moisture along with those sinful praises he whispered to her cunt was sending vibration all over her body, soaring her higher and higher, closer to the precipice.

“Come for me Darcy, NOW,” Loki said with a groan.

And her body obeyed him. With a loud cry, she came undone. For what felt like the longest seconds she grasped one hand to the brim of the table as he coaxed her through waves after waves of pleasure until it ceased. Sweat glistened on her skin as her whole being was trembling from the inside out.

In an instant, reality came back to her as she stared up his ceiling. Like that empty calm after the storm, the fall after her flight where everything around her turned to clear yet sit so still. Her muscles were still clenching their fingers when she tried to rise back up. Maybe she should've just stayed down for a bit longer, because once her back was straight, she felt the gush of warm liquid running down their digits as he finally pulled them out. To her horror, it didn't stop there. Some of it even trickled down the surface of the table.

Seeing this, his expression turned even darker, his jaw tightened as he growled the next words with a hoarse voice, “Say you’ll stay." 

The weight of his request settled in, she ducked her face, avoiding the impossible and the embarrassing  _mess_  she made on his dinner table.

Persistently, he took her chin in his other hand and leveled their eyes once more, “Say it.”

This time, she held her gaze. Looking back at him with a steel glare as to not make him see how those captivating pools of green wrenched the breath out of her chest. Bracing her thumping heart, she replied, “I’ll stay.”

Loki tugged her by the hand until she completely flopped on top of his lap where his rock hard erection was pressing against her tush. His aquiline nose was flat on her cheek as he breathed her in as if she was the very air that filled his lungs. Then he bent lower, closer to her lips. Despite the flame stirring inside him, this time he kissed her softly, slowly, carefully as he slipped his pointer finger into her mouth, giving her a good taste of herself, making her delirious.

He withdrew both his lips and the finger not a minute later. And when their lips were merely a breath apart with his forehead resting on hers, he whispered with a satisfied smile, “Then I believe we just made a deal, Darcy Lewis.”

 

With that, Loki carried her to the bedroom. 

 

 ***

 

* * *

 

  

 Meanwhile, at the kitchen

"Do you think he'll behave?" The butler asked a middle-aged woman standing to his side. They were both in the middle watching a TV show whilst polishing some dull silverware, those that were resting, unused for too long inside the cabinet.

"Of course, we've reminded him many times and he actually nodded," the woman replied, her hands were scrubbing a spoon vigorously.

"He did not."

"He did," she insisted rather weakly, "well,  _sort of,_  in any case—,"

"I doubt it," he told her, "Such a shame really, she looks like a really nice girl, with a good appetite by the way. And unlike your son, she obviously loved your cooking," he teased.

"Oh  _shush!"_ She nudged her elbow at him though her lips were curving proudly, "Have a little faith in him! It's the first time he brings someone home after all."

"Here's to hoping," he sighed, raising the silver fork to meet the spoon in the woman's hand and clink them together for a toast.

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was long wasn't it? I am nervous though, it's been a while (about two months really lol) since the last time I wrote a smut scene. Please tell me that this one didn't ick you out?
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading, and if you'd like to - I don't know, share me your kink maybe? Just dial [800-0000-KINK](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/soothsayerstale) and drop them (anon or not, noona will never kink shame you) to me and I just might weave them into the next chapter(s).


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